


Dirty Pretty Things

by Crown_of_Winterthorne



Series: Kinktober 2016 [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Sex, Creampie, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Future Fic, M/M, Polyamory, Third Year Akaashi, Threesome - M/M/M, University Students Boktuo & Kuroo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-29 03:26:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8473630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crown_of_Winterthorne/pseuds/Crown_of_Winterthorne
Summary: Originally written for Kinktober Prompt #7: Creampie.Akaashi is still learning to ask for what he wants, but Bokuto and Kuroo are always willing to indulge him, even when it surprises them.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Set sometime during Akaashi's third year.
> 
> This one was long enough to deserve its own separate posting. I'm hoping to have the other BoKuroAka kinks put together into a multi-chapter collection soon. In the meantime, you can read them on tumblr at [crown-of-winterthorne](https://crown-of-winterthorne.tumblr.com/) under the "Kinktober" or "daily drabbles" tags. I still have several more to do!

Two sets of eyes look at Akaashi in surprise when he catches Kuroo’s wrist, stopping him from tearing open the wrapper so that he can put the condom on Bokuto.

“I don’t want it,” he says, proud of himself for not letting his voice shake, not with embarrassment but eagerness. It’s something he’s wanted for awhile—surprising even himself, so he doesn’t get irritated when his boyfriends are a little doubtful.

He licks his lips and offers some encouragement, but now he is blushing, because he never says things like this even though they both love to hear it. “C-Come inside of me, Bokuto-san.”

“Keiji…” he drawls his given name almost as badly as he does to the family one. “Are you sure? I mean—”

Bokuto looks to Kuroo for back-up. Kuroo, who is the second-most sensible one in their trio and can be counted on to be the voice of reason during those rare moments when Akaashi gives himself over to a whim.

Kuroo shrugs. “It’s not like we’ve ever been with anyone but each other, right? And I’m ninety-nine percent sure that we can’t get Keiji pregnant.”

That earns a glare from Akaashi, but he’s more interested in getting on with getting Bokuto inside of him than he is interested in losing the mood to Kuroo’s warped sense of humor.

“You’re sure?” Bokuto asks one more time, because Kuroo’s logic isn’t enough. Akaashi can be prickly when it comes to messy sex, no matter how much he enjoys himself during the act itself. That’s mostly why they’ve never actually done it without the condom before.

“I’m sure,” Akaashi assures him. “It’s something I’ve been thinking about.”

And just like that, the idea that Akaashi has been thinking about it has Bokuto’s concerns set at ease and both his and Kuroo’s imaginations working overtime. How long had he been thinking—fantasizing?—about having sex raw, letting them come inside of him? It riles up their usually dormant possessive streaks and has Bokuto pressing Akaashi down onto the bed while they both steal kisses from his mouth.

Kuroo pins his wrists with strong hands while Bokuto does the same to his hips with the heavy weight of his body. Akaashi moans for them, unable to help himself, and if his hands hadn’t been trapped, he would have automatically raised them to his mouth. Too many stolen nights at each other’s homes or in darkened classrooms and locker rooms during joint training camps have left him with the reflexive need to hush his cries. He’s still not used to the idea of real privacy, finally allowed to them by the apartment Bokuto and Kuroo share not far from the university.

It’s a treat for Bokuto and Kuroo. They’ve always loved seeing what noises they could draw from Akaashi, competing with each other to see who could make him cry out the loudest or alternately, seeing how well he could hold out when someone’s parents were in the next room over. He makes plenty of noise for them now, from panting pleas to encouraging wails of their names.

The neighbors might not appreciate it, but neighbors aren’t the same as family members or teammates. Akaashi won’t need to look at them in the face come morning.

He’s not sure that he’ll be able to look at Bokuto or Kuroo in the morning though, when he’s come back to himself and isn’t writhing beneath Bokuto, begging for release. When he isn’t moaning into Kuroo’s mouth or whispering into his ear, “You next, Kuroo-san.”

“Fuck,” Kuroo growls, pressing a bite into Akaashi’s neck, only just remembering to place it where his collar will hide it at school. “Fuck, yeah. Kou, you better hurry up or I’m not going to last long enough for a turn.”

Bokuto makes a sound of amusement, raking his eyes over Kuroo’s lean, naked form. “Better get your hand off your dick then, Tetsu.”

If the tension hadn’t been so high, Kuroo would have laughed. Instead he just grins that cat-smile of his and gives Bokuto a heated look of his own. He’s got Akaashi’s knees hooked over his forearms, pressing those slender legs up and open for his pistoning hips. It does things to his neck and shoulders that makes Kuroo lick his lips with the desire to mark them up.

Bokuto’s hair has gone almost completely flat, most of the gel sweated out, the style ruined by grasping hands. A lock falls over his forehead and he impatiently tosses his head to get it out of his eyes. Kuroo and Akaashi both think that he looks amazing like this, but Akaashi’s too far gone to string the words together. Kuroo isn’t.

Bokuto has always been weak for Kuroo’s voice. Weaker for his words. Between Kuroo saying pretty, dirty things and Akaashi _being_ a pretty, dirty thing, Bokuto knew he didn’t stand a chance.

He comes with a shout and a shudder, burying himself deep inside of Akaashi as he spills hot and thick. For a moment everything feels brighter, lighter and then Akaashi is pulling him down for a grateful, hungry kiss. Bokuto can feel him trembling, caught on the edge, and he thinks selfishly of pushing Akaashi over it himself, but then Kuroo is there, kissing him too and making him move over. Akaashi whimpers as he pulls out and Bokuto does the same as he catches a glimpse of himself sliding out of his ass, still mostly hard and wet, leaving Akaashi even wetter.

Akaashi reaches for Bokuto, wanting to be held as Kuroo slides between his thighs. Warm arms wrap around him and kisses are pressed to his ear. One leg is drawn up onto Kuroo’s shoulder, opening him wider, and he moans as lube-slick fingers press unnecessarily inside of him.

“Please,” he whispers, turning his head to press his cheek into the pillow. “Kuroo-san, I can’t…”

“Can’t what?” he prompts when Akaashi doesn’t finish. It’s said with concern, sweet enough to bring a smile to Akaashi’s face, even though he’s frustrated and impatient and barely able to speak at all.

“Stop?” Bokuto asks, because he knows Akaashi. He can speak for them both. “You can’t go on or you can’t handle any teasing?”

“Teasing,” he gasps. “No more… please, I want…”

“It’s okay,” Bokuto kisses his neck. “We’ve got you, Keiji.”

He smiles and turns to kiss him, grateful. “Yes. I-I know…”

Kuroo nods. He gives Akaashi what he wants, both of them groaning a long, drawn out exaltation as he sinks inside. There’s barely a moment to breathe and then they’re moving against each other, Kuroo thrusting hard while Akaashi tries to match him, but it’s quickly a losing battle. He’s so close, his muscles growing tight and heavy.

It’s Bokuto’s turn to talk, but his words are only for Akaashi, rasping low into his ear. He snakes a hand down Akaashi’s torso to circle his cock, pumping him in time to Kuroo’s punishing pace. Using words like “beautiful” and “ours” and a final command of “Keiji, come for us,” he brings Akaashi to the edge and over it. A sob tears itself from Akaashi’s throat and come spurts over his chest and Bokuto’s hand while he clutches at the bedding.

Watching them, listening to them, Kuroo starts to lose his own control. The sensation of Akaashi, so wonderfully tight and silky hot, clenching down around him knocks it away with a sledgehammer. He grips Akaashi’s thigh tight where it rests on his shoulder—he’ll have marks at practice come Monday, unless he wants to hide them with a pair of Bokuto’s kneepads—and follows into his own orgasm. 

When he can breathe again, Kuroo is struck by the image of Akaashi beneath him, wrecked and flushed with his hair in disarray and Bokuto kissing his neck, murmuring sweet nonsense. He swallows hard, his throat dry and strangely raw—he wonders if he was so far gone that he screamed. So far gone that he doesn’t  _ remember  _ screaming. 

Lowering Akaashi’s leg from his shoulder, they both hiss and wince as he pulls out. The spill of white that trickles down Akaashi’s inner thigh sends a renewed spike of pleasure to Kuroo’s gut and he has to look away, groaning.

“Fuck.”

“What?” Bokuto asks. Akaashi can only blink at him.

There are a handful of responses that flit through Kuroo’s mind, each dirtier than the last, but what he finally settles on is a nonsensical “...shouldn’t be this hot,” prompting Bokuto to get to his knees beside Kuroo and take in his view. 

“Oh,” he understands. That possessive streak rises again, mixed with a strange sense of pride and ownership that Akaashi would slap him for if Bokuto ever voiced it. So instead he says softly, “‘Kaashi… we got you all messy.”

And Akaashi, in what is definitely a rare whim brought on by lingering afterglow, spreads his legs wider and answers fiercely, “Good. Now clean me up.” 

—END—

**Author's Note:**

> I suppose the next question is... however did they clean Akaashi up after an invitation like that? ^_~ 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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